The Secret Ingredient for a Happy Marriage

by Shirley Jump

  Nora’s jaw dropped. “You did not—”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, of course I didn’t. I’m the cool aunt, but not that cool.” Magpie leaned against the counter and crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s up with you lately? You are totally stressed. Like more than usual.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Magpie snorted. “This is me you’re talking to. If there’s anyone in this family you can’t bullshit, it’s me.”

  “Will you get off my case?” Nora shook her head. “Jesus, Mags, just leave me alone.”

  The brightness disappeared from Magpie’s face, and her eyes turned icy. “You know, Nora, you can be a real b—”—she glanced at the kids—“witch when you want to be. I’m trying to help you, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “I have. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re too damned worried about what’s going on with you to even think there might be other people in this house who are going through something too.” Magpie turned on her heel and headed down the hall and into her room. The door slammed shut.

  Things other people in the house were going through? Had she missed something? Been too self-absorbed to be there for Magpie?

  Nora gave it a few minutes before going down the hall. She knocked on her sister’s door, but Magpie told her to go away. Nora stood there a moment, thinking back over the last few days, trying to figure out if there was anything different about her little sister. She seemed a bit run-down, but that was likely jet lag.

  For most of her life, Nora had been exactly what Magpie accused her of the other day—the surrogate mother to her sisters. She’d learned to make dinner at age ten, to set her own alarm to get up earlier than her sisters on school days, and to keep a running list in her notebook of what everyone else had to do, from science projects to soccer practice. How had she lost track of her little sister?

  A little sister who was, Nora reminded herself, a full-grown adult who didn’t need a mother to make sure she ate her green beans and went to bed at a decent hour. After a while, Nora went outside and tried to engage Sarah in a conversation, but Sarah just said she was tired and went inside.

  Okay, so she was batting a thousand. For a woman who was used to juggling all the balls and doing it successfully, these past months of failure—and accepting that it was partly because she’d deluded herself about how good her juggling act was—had started to wear on Nora. She thought of all the decisions ahead and figured she better get her shit together pretty damned soon or she was going to screw those up too.

  The doorbell rang, the Chinese food arrived, and after Nora got the kids set up with their sweet-and-sour chicken, she carried a plate of General Tso’s chicken down the hall and knocked again. “Mags, the food’s here.”

  A pause, then the sound of the door unlocking and opening. “I’m only taking this because I’m hungry.”

  Nora smiled and handed her sister the paper plate. “Good thing your stomach isn’t mad at me too.”

  Magpie sank onto her bed and gestured for Nora to sit beside her. She looked down at the plate in her lap for a minute, her long straight hair spilling down the back of her maxi dress and dusting against the comforter. “I’m sorry for what I said before.”

  “No, I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m so wrapped up in my own shit, I can’t see anything else.” Nora sighed. “I’ve been doing that for a long time and am just now realizing it.”

  “You gonna tell me what is going on? Because I’ve been around you long enough to know that this isn’t normal Nora behavior. Plus, Sarah’s kind of a mess, and your temper has a shorter fuse than Wile E. Coyote’s dynamite.”

  That made Nora laugh. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Only to people who know you well.” Magpie’s hand covered Nora’s. “And only people who spend more than a few hours at work with you. You’ve always been pretty good at covering up the tough stuff.”

  Nora sighed. The burdens on her shoulders seemed ten times heavier in the last few weeks, hell the entire last year. She’d gone through all that…

  All of it alone. She’d told herself it was for the best, because telling Ben wouldn’t have changed anything. Maybe if she opened up to her sister—a little—that heaviness would ease. “Ben and I have been having money problems,” she said. “It’s nothing, really. But it’s made me a little more stressed than usual.”

  Okay, so that was barely telling the truth, but it was a start.

  “Then this vacation came at just the right time.” Magpie’s gaze swept over Nora, and her eyes narrowed. “Anything else bothering you? I don’t want to pry, but it seems like Sarah’s pretty pissed at you too.”

  “Sarah got a few bad grades and she’s been in trouble.” Way to keep on minimizing the truth, Nora. So, losing her house became a couple’s money problems and her daughter almost being expelled was a handful of Ds?

  “I’m so glad it’s nothing big,” Magpie said. “You’ll bounce back. You always do. You’re like the most stable one in the family.”

  If they only knew the truth. Nora hadn’t felt anything close to stability in a long time. But just seeing the relief in Magpie’s face that her older sister—the one she’d always depended upon—was okay reminded Nora why she didn’t dump her problems on her family. She got to her feet and crossed to the door. “I should get back to the kids before they eat all the egg rolls—or feed them to the dog.”

  “Nora? Can I ask you something?”

  Nora turned back. “Shoot.”

  Magpie dropped her gaze to her plate again. “When Sarah and Jake were born, like, how did you know what to do?”

  “Meaning how to be a parent?” That was an odd question coming from her firmly-forever-single sister who had expressed almost zero interest in having a family.

  Magpie nodded. “I’m just asking because I want to be a better aunt, and I think, even with Sarah’s grumpiness this week, that you’re doing a great job.”

  A mother doing a great job didn’t take the risks Nora had taken. A mother doing a great job put her children before a fight, a man, everything. The only thing Nora seemed to be doing a great job at was beating herself up.

  “There are days when I think the complete opposite.” Nora clutched the door frame and reached back in her memory, to those early days when Sarah was born and she and Ben had been filled with overwhelming joy, even when they were operating on fumes after late-night and early-morning feedings. Sarah had seemed like such a miracle to them, with every burp, every movement, every smile. But Nora also remembered feeling overwhelmingly lost and terrified of making a mistake. “I think you just do your best. No one gets it right all the time.”

  Magpie picked at the edge of the comforter and let out a long breath. “Sometimes I wish Dad hadn’t died. Ma was great and loved us a lot, but he was like the perfect parent. I was so little when he died, but I remember the piggyback rides and trips to the park and ice cream on Wednesday nights. I loved him so much.”

  “Me too. And he loved all of us like we were the sun and moon in his world.” Nora often wondered what her father would say if he could see her now. Would he be proud? Disappointed? Would he have seen through the careful façade she had maintained for all those years and given her a shoulder to lean on? “Mags, I guess the key to being a good parent is to think what Dad would do and run with that.”

  “That sounds like good advice.”

  “It is.” And all Nora had to do was follow it.

  The next morning, Nora laced up her running shoes and shrugged into a sweatshirt. The storm a couple days earlier had left behind cold weather and a brisk wind, but she opted to brave the low temps anyway. She’d woken up craving the run, after another sleepless night and hours spent surfing real estate sites, looking for a place for them to live. She could feel the clock ticking down, like a bomb waiting to explode.

  Nora crossed to the front door, just as the dog ambled in front of it. “Hey, dog, you have to get out of the way.”

  Chance sat there, w
agging his tail and looking up at her. He let out a little yip.

  “Shhhh. The kids are still asleep.” She bent down and patted his head. Okay, not quite a pat, but if Nora started petting this dog, the thing would get more attached, and that path wasn’t going to lead anywhere good. “Now shoo. I have to go before everyone gets up.”

  The dog didn’t move. This time he let out a whine. He looked up at her with big, brown pleading eyes. His tail gave a hopeful wag.

  “Do you want to run with me? Is that it?” At the word run, Chance jumped to his feet, his tail beating a staccato against the door. Nora laughed. “Okay, okay, but if you pull on the leash or trip me, you’re coming right back home. Deal?”

  Chance waited for her to clip on the leash, but as soon as she opened the door, he lunged forward, eager, rushing. They stepped into a brisk October morning, and into a quiet, still-asleep world. The sun had just barely risen, and the beach neighborhood lay mostly in shadow.

  Nora wrapped the end of the leash around her hand and started to jog. She expected the dog to take off, but instead he matched his gait to hers and trotted alongside her. Nora wound her way down the street, then down another one, clicking off a mile, then another, before she paused, walked a bit, and turned around to jog back. Her pace was nowhere near what it had been nine years ago, but she was surprised that she could slip back into running with relative ease. Had to be all those hours on her feet at the bakery, which by the end of the day often felt like she’d run a marathon.

  All the while, the dog stayed by her side, slowing when she slowed, stopping when she waited to cross a street. He would look up at her from time to time with something that looked suspiciously like a grin on his face. He was…happy out here, running.

  She had to admit he was a good dog. Kind of cute and well mannered. If she had a running buddy like him, she might just get out on the roads more often.

  “You’re just sucking up to me,” Nora said, the words slipping out between breaths and steps. “Pleading your case so I’ll keep you.”

  The dog’s tail wagged.

  “But I can’t have a dog, not unless I find a rental house with a—” Nora stopped.

  This time, Chance didn’t pay attention and ran a couple steps before the leash made him halt. He looked back over his shoulder at her, panting.

  “I totally forgot. I know a house I can rent,” she said to him. Good Lord, now she was talking to the dog? “Buy a little time, maybe come up with a plan before my family gets all involved and crazy.”

  She fished her cell phone out of the inside pocket of her sweatshirt and dialed her aunt, trying to remember what Ma had said about when Aunt Mary would be released from the hospital. Her heart troubles had returned over the last year, and she spent more time resting and less time traveling. It was sad to see, given how vibrant and busy Aunt Mary used to be, but at the same time, all those weeks spent in Massachusetts had given Ma a chance to bond with the mother she’d never really known.

  Nora had always loved Aunt Mary. Though Magpie was the closest in personality, with her flitting around the world and aversion to being tied down, it was Nora who had spent the most time with Aunt Mary when she was a little girl. Her aunt would come home from Africa or Europe and invite her nieces over for the afternoon, undoubtedly to give Ma a break from four little girls, and nine times out of ten, it was Nora who ended up in the kitchen with her aunt, fixing lunch or making a simple dessert for them all to share.

  Nora admired her aunt, the way Mary took life on her own terms and lived with few regrets. Even after she revealed last year that she was Ma’s mother, she was clearly proud of the daughter she had helped raise and was relieved that the truth was finally out and they could be an honest, open family. Maybe a part of Nora envied Aunt Mary, too, in the same way she envied Magpie and her life free of the ties that bound Nora so tightly.

  “Hello?” Aunt Mary’s voice was a little weak but still held the familiar chipper optimism. After her recent stay in the hospital to repair a blocked artery, it was good to hear traces of heartiness still in Mary’s words.

  “Hi, Aunt Mary, it’s me, Nora.”

  “Oh, Nora! So nice to hear from you! How’s the beach? Your mother said you took some time off. About damned time if you ask me.”

  What was with her family? It was as if they all had the same script. “The beach is great, and the kids are having a good time, although it’s getting cold now. Anyway, I’m coming home Sunday afternoon. And I…I wanted to ask you a favor.”

  “Sure, sweetheart, anything.”

  She shuffled from foot to foot. The cold air snuck under her jacket and chilled her chest and waist. “Ben’s still working on the kitchen, and I have no idea when it’s going to be done. I was hoping we could crash at your house while you are staying with Ma. It won’t be forever, just until we get things together at the other house.” The lie slipped out of her with a practiced ease that made Nora wonder how she’d become this person who lied to her family, lied to her children, lied to herself.

  Good old-fashioned Catholic guilt heated her face. Good thing she was on a phone, miles away from her aunt, who would surely see through Nora’s words in person.

  “You’re more than welcome to stay at my house,” Aunt Mary said, no hesitation, no questions. “I’ve been there so rarely over the years, what with all my traveling, that the old girl will be glad to have some company. And I’m staying at your mom’s now while she hovers over me and warns me not to stay up past my bedtime.”

  Nora laughed. “Some things never change.”

  “Indeed. But that’s what makes them good, dependable. Anyway, you are welcome to my house and to stay as long as you like.”

  Forever? Nora wanted to ask. Or until I hit the lottery and can afford a home again? “Thank you, Aunt Mary. You have no idea how much of a relief that is.”

  “I do, my dear. I truly do.” She paused a beat and then lowered her voice. “Now, I take it you don’t want me to tell your mother about this.”

  Nora stood there, silent for a second, her breath frosting in the chilly air. How was she supposed to respond to that? Chance lay on the ground beside her, his head on his paws.

  “I know you’re having troubles, Nora,” Aunt Mary went on. “I know you lost the house, and I know you’re teetering on a very fine line with everything else. And I want you to know that whatever you tell me is confidential. You tell your mother and your sisters in your own time, not on my timeline.”

  “How did you find out?” And if Aunt Mary knew, who else knew? That overwhelming sense of failure threatened to drown her. If her family realized how far Nora had let her life slip away, they’d be disappointed, ashamed even, but not as ashamed as she was of herself for letting it get to this point.

  “Now, don’t be mad, dear, but Ben came to me,” Aunt Mary said.

  “Ben. My husband Ben? Came to you?” Ben, who rarely visited her family? The same husband who had skipped family dinners and barbeques to go to the track?

  “He knows you and I are close, and he came to visit me in the hospital on Wednesday. He was a broken man, I have to say. I’ve never seen him so upset. We talked for a long time. I like that boy, Nora.”

  Well, Aunt Mary was alone in the Ben Fan Club right now, at least out here on this quiet street in Truro. His visit to Aunt Mary came as a surprise. He was a broken man. Could Ben be as upset over this as she was?

  If so, he had lost that feeling by the time they talked Wednesday evening about dividing the furniture and splitting custody. Nora wanted to ask, wanted to know what her aunt had meant by broken, but was afraid she already knew the answer. Ben had had a moment of vulnerability, like he had on the phone the other night. That was all. “What did you say to him?”

  “Well, I offered to help you two out with some money, but he wouldn’t have any of that. He said he wants to do this on his own, which I have to admire.”

  “He can’t do it on his own,” Nora said. “If he could, he would have done it by
now. All he’s done is let me down. Let his kids down.”

  “Now, now, I know Ben hasn’t been perfect. No man is. But he is trying, and you have to give him credit for that.”

  Nora let out a long breath. How many times had she thought the same thing and taken Ben back? Trusted in his words, thinking his actions would match, and they never did. She was done doing that. “We’ve both been trying, Aunt Mary. And still we ended up here. With the house up for auction and our lives in total disarray.”

  “A life making mistakes is far more honorable than a life spent doing nothing at all. George Bernard Shaw said those words, and I happen to agree. You’ve made mistakes; he’s made mistakes. The key is to go forward together.”

  Apparently, Ben hadn’t told her aunt everything. Like that she and her husband weren’t going to be going anywhere together in the future. Like how he’d left her a thousand times to place a bet. Like how she had been lying to him for over a year. A lie of omission, but still, a lie.

  “I appreciate you letting us stay at your house, Aunt Mary. If you’re okay with it, we might have an extra stowaway. The kids found a dog wandering on the beach, and if I don’t find his owners before I leave, I might have to take him with me.”

  “I think that’s an excellent idea! A dog is wonderful for a family. And my little Pedro will love to visit.”

  Her aunt’s Chihuahua was practically a child in Aunt Mary’s eyes, so Nora wasn’t surprised she’d agreed to the dog resident. As for the rest, she needed to be honest about the state of her marriage. She didn’t want Aunt Mary thinking there was going to be some ride off into the sunset. “Before you say yes to letting me move into your house, there’s something you should know.” Nora drew in a deep breath, let it out. “I’m not so sure we’re still going to be a family at the end of this. Ben and I are talking about breaking up.”

  “My dear niece, take heart and believe in the love that brought you two together.” Aunt Mary’s voice was soft, understanding. Even though her aunt had never married, she did have one great love when she was young, and she understood the intricacies of that emotion better than most. “I know you have had money problems, but remember it’s always easier to halve a potato with love.”